


empyrean girl

by antarcticas



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Dadko, Domestic Bliss, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Zutara, and izumi being cute, dadko and momtara being the supreme trope, izumi being a cute steambaby, maybe linear?, this is just zutara being good parents, whenever i write anything it ends up being dadko
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:07:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27298384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antarcticas/pseuds/antarcticas
Summary: Izumi grows up in the Fire Nation Palace with the world at her feet and thebestparents.
Relationships: Izumi & Zuko (Avatar), Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 120





	1. Chapter 1

Zuko has lived his whole life with a certain set of guidelines; he has rules he must follow as a member of the Fire Nation's royal family.

When he was a child he had enjoyed playing with the palace servants. Azula always had Mai and Ty Lee, but he was too awkward to make friends and too kind to find subjects of his own. He had learnt, at age seven, facing his father's burning, aurelian gaze, that princes do not hang around with the common folk - he had learnt that all must abide to his whims, to the whims of Prince Ozai.

He had remained friendless, quiet, had sulked his way and grown with only his mother as company. He was only adhering to his birthright.

Then his father had burnt off half his face for speaking out of turn in a meeting. The Agni Kai is sacred to the Fire Nation and he had refused to fight his father and suffered an ineffable amount. He had learnt, at age thirteen, eyes of the entire court upon him, that you must always stand your ground - he had learnt that pain and suffering are the only teachers half of his bloodline knows.

He had shaved off half his head afterwards, had been an insufferable captain and sailed the seas. He was only adhering to his birthright; he was only facing horrors he had created.

As an adult, Zuko is still held to a strict code; a moral code, one written in blood (in lightning scars). But some rules are almost enjoyable to follow. Some guidelines are formed from love and not propriety, from mutual respect.

Katara lies in bed next to him. They sleep together - this is a rule he likes to follow. Izumi lies in their room, close enough so that they can always protect her - this is a rule he likes to follow.

When his eyes open in full he first glances to the window, a sky still slightly blackened. He can feel the fire in his veins rejuvenating itself and pulls himself out of his wife's tight grasp, sliding her posessive hand off of his waist. She moans and he stills. There is one rule in his household that Zuko, at age twenty-five, is absolutely terrified of breaking -

Katara is not to be woken until hours after sunrise. He rises with the sun, she with the moon; she bends and heals far later into the night than he does, and she rages when she is roused early. She is always adorable with the vestiges of sleep written across her features, but Zuko . . . he knows that look is not really worth the consequences of awakening her before her time.

At that same moment, Izumi gets up, like she can also feel the flames. He wonders if this means she is a firebender almost briefly before his gaze turns back to Katara, who is rising with him, and looks almost - almost so close to consciousness. Oh, no.

In a burst of confidence, he turns her off of him and jumps across their cool floor, barefoot, and takes Izumi out of her crib. Her features are red and she looks like she's on the brink of tears before she takes him in, gurgling and reaching out for his face. There are only two people in this world he trusts to touch his scar so easily.

"We are not," he hefts her up, placing her face over his shoulder, "going to wake up your mother. Do you understand?"

His tone is teasingly serious, and his daughter calls him out on it, gurgling against his side. He sighs in complacence and happiness before side-eying Katara once again, relief smothering him when he realizes that she's out again, lightly snoring against their pillow. He loves her, but he's also absolutely terrified of her - especially when she's tired. "Let's go outside. I think that'll be fun. We can look at the sun. Do you like the sun?"

Izumi obviously can't respond to him but when he looks down he sees her bright smile and feels his heart fly out of the window he opens. When he steps outside, stone against his feet, his daughter in his hands, the sun is still climbing into the sky. It paints a gorgeous picture at this moment, showering them in pure gold; he feels its energy in his veins.

"That's firebending, Izumi. That's energy. Can you feel that?" She turns around in his hands and looks out at the horizon, her blue eyes wide.

When he was a child his father had said that he was a weak bender, a shameful child. He had never had the same connection to the sun as Azula, at least not outright. She has always been collected, and he has always been conflicted. But ever since Ran and Shaw, ever since he realized who he wanted to be, he knows the sky as an extension of himself. 

He can lose himself in this moment; his daughter in his arms, Katara in his bed, fire in his veins. It feels so intrinsically correct, and he thinks that rules can't be so bad if they've landed him in this life.


	2. Chapter 2

"Papa?"

"Yes, Izumi?"

"Are you done?"

Zuko looks down and sees his daughter standing at the edge of his desk, pouting. "I'm . . ."

"Mom's waiting," she imperiously crosses her hands over her chest, and he laughs drily before checking the time candle in the corner. A quick glance outside has him realize that the sky is already a terrible inky black. "You have to put me to bed. And then you have to sleep. And then Mom is gonna go practice her bending."

"I--" he has dozens of reports to sign off on, complaints and begs for subsidization and conflicts in the colonies, but he will never deny his daughter anything. Zuko pushes everything to one side of the table and steps up, cracking his knuckles before leaning down and pulling Izumi into his arms. His hands wrap around her sides, lightly tickling her through her robes, and she smiles despite the late hour. "Okay. Bedtime for you, you little fireflake."

"Don't call me that!" 

"Nuh-uh. You're always going to be my little fireflake." They exit his office and walk the short hall to Izumi's bedroom, next to his and Katara's. The halls are empty at this time of day--the palace runs on an earlier schedule than this mixed-nation family does. Katara rises with the moon, and he with the sun, so they have this strange compromise when it comes to their daughter. They both put her to sleep, and Katara wakes her in the morning. She needs more rest than the both of them.

Izumi's room is purple, a strange color to see in the Caldera, but she'd chosen it as an infant and never looked back. The moon is a vision in her window, and when Zuko rounds inside he takes in Katara sitting on his daughter's bed, playing with a ball of water in a glass in the corner. "Did I keep you waiting?"

Katara smiles softly at him, shaking her head before freezing the water back into the cup. Izumi runs off to her closet to change into her night-clothes, and he slides off his heavy mantle and sits on top of her sheets, placing one of his hands around Katara's shoulders. She leans into him, bright-eyed, and he kisses her cheek. They are good at this, at sitting in silence; it’s comforting, and when Izumi runs out and jumps between them, he just chuckles. 

"Are we reading a story tonight?" Katara asks.

"We can go over Love Amongst the Dragons again--"

"We are not turning our daughter into a theater nerd, Zuko--"

"We are absolutely turning her into a theater nerd," he scoffs, his hair brushing Izumi's loose brown locks. "You like the theater, don't you?"

"Yes, Papa."

"See?" he almost sticks out his tongue at Katara, who smirks. "So Love Amongst the Dragons--"

"Why do you even like that story so much, Papa?"

Zuko shifts until they're more comfortable against him. "My mother and I used to talk about it a lot. We'd watch it on Ember Island too."

"They've been doing it for that long?" He nods. "Then how is it still so terrible?"

"Theater nerds," Katara restates jokingly. "All three of you."

"Did you watch it every year growing up?"

"I--" Zuko's voice dampens. "Until I was a few years older than you."

"Oh." Izumi is a child, and she's curious. "So why'd you stop?"

"My . . . my mother went away for a while."

This is a darker place than he'd intended to take this conversation, and when he looks at her Katara is just biting her lip and smiling at him soothingly. 

"Grandma left you? But Mom would never leave me."

"She didn't leave him," Katara reaches out. "It's complicated, sweetie."

"I don't get that," Izumi frowns. "Is it where you got the scar? Mom would never let me get a scar."

That burns him, intensely, but he can't be angry about it--it's he who still hasn't told her the truth about his scar, where he got it, who did it to him. Most days, he accepts it. He's accepted that he's not defined by it--the first time he can recall doing so was that day in the Crystal Catacombs. Still, he pities Izumi for having an ugly father, even if he can't quite say so.

As if Katara can understand his thought process--he wouldn't put it past her--she reaches to him and places her fingers against the mark. He can't feel her touch, exactly, but he knows the pressure. It's a strange feeling. "It wasn't my mother's fault, Izumi. It wasn't Grandma's fault."

"I don't get it, Papa. Didn't it hurt? Oh," she nods solemnly. "It happened in the war."

She sounds so proud of herself, and he sort of wants to go along with that, but Katara breathes in and stares at him, and he knows he needs to lead into this, eventually, somehow. "It did happen in the war. But it wasn't because of Grandma."

"I'm gonna hurt anyone who hurt you," the little girl says crossly, and Katara takes her hand and laughs.

"Easy there, sea prune."

"Can you stop calling me food names?"

"But you're so adorable," Katara teases, and Izumi presses back into her father's embrace, sticking her tongue out at her mother before seeming to grow reflective.

"Who did it? Who burned you?"

This is such a simple question to answer. He needs to answer it. But he's staring at his daughter right now, and he loves her so much, and he has no idea how his father pressed a burning hand to his face. "I--" He needs to say this. He does. He begs Katara to take it with his eyes for a brief moment, but she shakes her head at him and speaks to him with her eyes. _You need to do this._

"My father."

"But Grandpa Noren--"

"My other father," he whispers. "But he's gone now. We don't talk about him."

Izumi seems more confused than angry. "But that doesn't make any sense. Parents are supposed to love their kids. Not hurt them. Or leave them."

"They are," Katara steps in. "And we love you more than anything, you know that."

"Yeah," Izumi nods, and Zuko can be happy, because all he needs to accomplish in this life is the love of his daughter. All he can do is try to deserve that love. And the way she speaks of it, without doubt, tugs at his heartstrings. "I don't get it."

All he feels is love. "Me either."

"It's stupid."

"Isn't it?" he almost wants to choke out, his hand suddenly lodged in Katara's. 

"It's okay, though. I think your scar makes you pretty."

"It does?" Katara questions, a lilt to her tone.

"It's very . . . dramatic. Dragon. Papa would be a good actor," Izumi says solemnly. 

"Nerds. You both."

A load feels lifted off his shoulders, and the rest of the night flows smoothly, and some part of Zuko feels at peace. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these first two are requests from my tumblr (antarcticasx) by the-greysunflowerblog and vivianwisteria. if you want to see specific dadko pls let me know :) he's the best father and that's all


	3. Chapter 3

Izumi is seven years old when she walks up to Zuko and stares at him unsteadily, about to cry. His emotions change with hers, and he just about has a heart attack when he takes in her distraught expression. "What's wrong?"

She bursts into tears and he runs up to her and thrusts her up into his arms, right there in the courtyard. These are private areas, but Sokka and Suki are here today, and Izumi always hates when people besides her parents see her cry. She's a little like him, in that sense--prone to be emotional, and also quick to act as though he isn't. 

"Katara," he whispers loudly as he slides through the corridor to their room. He doesn't know where she is--perhaps at one of her Fire Lady meetings, more likely dealing with water tribe negotiations. He doesn't keep up with her schedule beyond the times they schedule their vacations together to spend time with each other, so he really has no idea where she is. By the time he sets Izumi down on his bed and stares around glibly, he settles into a dark truth--Katara isn't coming. 

His mother didn't cry very much, and Azula never cried, and Katara cries sometimes, but . . . it's not like this. Katara's sobs do break his heart, but he usually knows why she's falling apart. He doesn't know what's got Izumi troubled, but he's about to find out. "Come on, sweetheart."

"Daddy!"

"Yes, Izumi?"

"I'm stupid."

"No you're not," he scoffs. "Who told you that? Did--"

"Yes I am! I'm . . . Dad, you shouldn't let me be Fire Lord."

"What?" He frowns. "You're too young to be thinking about things like--"

"We were talking about the Fire Lords during school today," she coughs, and he doesn't like where this is going. Izumi has her own tutors, but she also goes to one of the public Caldera schools for a half-day education. She's fully undercover, of course, but Zuko wants her to understand her people--perhaps better than he does. She hasn't heard much gossip yet, but it was almost time. "And Fire Lords are all firebenders."

"That's definitely not true," Zuko objects. "And why does it--"

"I'm not a firebender," she whispers, and Zuko can feel his heart beating next to hers. He knows exactly what he needs to say, because he remembers being this child. Sometimes, he thinks he would have been treated better if he had been a non-bender. He could have simply been a failure from the start, rather than the boy who never managed to live up to expectations. He sighs and shakes his head, and forces his insides to stay still as his daughter finishes her brief rant. "I'm not a firebender, or even a waterbender, and I'm not going to be able to take the throne."

Zuko wants to speak, but he waits. He reaches a hand out and touches her small braid, the one he'd woven in when he'd woken up. Izumi has discipline, and she is sweet and charming and beautiful, and he loves her more than this entire earth. And yet, he knows that she needs to speak what's on the tip of her tongue--even if he doesn't know what that is. "And?"

Her tears spiral out further, and she blurts her next words out terribly, terribly fast. "You should just have another kid. A kid who isn't a failure."

Zuko's body stops moving, his heart stops beating--he can't feel bloodflow, and he can see his life flash in front of his eyes. _You were lucky to be born._ He had always been such a terrible son . . . all he had wanted was his father's love. Azula had always been better, _born lucky._ Born not only a firebender and a prodigy, but cold, ruthless, and _better than him._

He is not going to fail as a father. He is not. He wishes Katara was here. He feels as though he already has. But he also knows this is his battle to fight against those terrible demons in his head--the ones that still tell him he is never enough. His body hurts. It hurts. He sits down next to Izumi and pulls her small figure into his large, cloth-swathed body. Neither of them are comfortable against his robes, but something more is at stake here. 

He's crying, too. 

"Daddy?"

Zuko pulls away and stares into her eyes, hazel or blue--he's never been able to really tell, they dance like a kaleidoscope--and whispers. "I could never, ever, replace you. You are the thing I love the most in life, and it doesn't matter if you're a nonbender or a waterbender or a firebender. Only three things matter to me," he insists. "That you are healthy and safe, loved, and happy."

"Daddy . . ."

"One day you will be Fire Lord. There are plenty of reasons that could change--maybe you'll decide that nobody should be Fire Lord. Maybe you won't want to be because you think it's boring. But this throne belongs to someone with a good heart, and I know you have that."

"I'm not good enough," she whispers again, and he wipes a tear off her cheek and gives her a broken smile. 

"You are good enough. You are more than good enough. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. And they're lying, too," he chuckles. "It's propaganda--do you know what that is?"

"Prop-a-gand-a," she sounds out, confused. 

"I thought it was fixed, but of course I missed the small things. Your great-great-great-grandfather was Fire Lord, and he was a nonbender. All throughout history, plenty of Fire Lords have been nonbenders. All that matters when being a ruler is that you have a good head on your shoulders."

"They said I'm not a real Fire Nation person," she says, "because Mom isn't Fire Nation."

He's willing to speak to that, but there is fire in her eyes. "I told them that didn't matter," she announces. "You can be Fire Nation as long as you want to be, and you can also be Earth Kingdom, like I'm also from the Southern Water Tribe. You don't have to be one thing. You can be everything."

"My brave little girl," Zuko pulls her to him and presses her to his chest. "You're absolutely right." Silence, and then he reminds her, "I love you."

"I love you too, Daddy," she peeks up and her voice wavers. "I don't want you to think I don't love you. That's not what I meant. You got really sad."

"No, Izumi. That's . . . it's all okay. You're my favorite person in the whole entire world, okay?"

"Yeah," she blushes. "Okay."


End file.
